


Constant

by thatkindahurtedmethough



Series: i keep bullying these volleyball boys [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bullying, Character Death, Explicit Language, F slur used once, Fluff and Angst, Growing Up Together, Hanahaki Disease, Homophobia, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, I Tried, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Language of Flowers, M/M, Yamaguchi Tadashi Needs a Hug, but its censored, throwing up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:21:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28163856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatkindahurtedmethough/pseuds/thatkindahurtedmethough
Summary: Constant/ˈkänstənt/Meaning to stay the same, unchanging.figured I'd try my hand on an angsty Haikyuu fic :)
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou & Yamaguchi Tadashi, Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi, Tsukishima Kei & Yamaguchi Tadashi, Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi, Yamaguchi Tadashi & Karasuno Volleyball Club
Series: i keep bullying these volleyball boys [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2095980
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30
Collections: Haikyuu!! Fics





	Constant

**Author's Note:**

  * For [doodeline](https://archiveofourown.org/users/doodeline/gifts).



> pink mandevilla - At peace with the way things are, and wishing that they wouldn't change/fear of loss.  
> Acacia flower - concealed love
> 
> Inspired by @doodeline , go check out their work!

Hands pushed against his shoulders as his rear made contact with the concrete. Swarming him, there were five of his peers, his "friends", kicking and tossing random stones and objects at him.

"You're so dumpy," a voice sneered. "You need to train your body. Here," and suddenly a black bag was knocking him over, slamming into his face. He looked up into their faces, and felt warm, pain-filled tears trickle down his freckled face. He stared down at the red shoes of his… friends.

He focused his eyes on the yellow marks on concrete, staring at the ground, counting the pebbles, anything to distract him.

A few feet away, a boy walked down the pathway of the playground, backpack and headphones suiting his tall, lean frame. A crop of blonde hair stuck out in random places, giving him some ethereal appearance. 

But as soon as he turned around and sneered at the group, the energy in the area had changed completely. 

"How lame", the words came at Yamaguchi like a truck, but it had apparently hit his peers harder, as they slowly but surely trudged their way towards the tall figure. But he scared them off with a single movement of his body, a simple shift of his weight. Yamaguchi didn't return to the elementary school park for a while, but he kept watch, looking for the beautiful blonde boy.

Later that week, Yamaguchi had been dropped off by his mother outside of a gym building. He had always been weaker than other children, smaller than other children, and had been scared to join in on any activities with others. But today? Today was different. 

He inhaled and exhaled deeply, forcing himself through the doors to peer in at the people inside. There were people of all ages, genders, capabilities, joined together. But they all shared one common thing. In their hands was a round, blue and yellow ball, and the air in the gym was filled with intent. 

Something Yamaguchi didn't have. 

As he backed away from the door, he thought about his options. Maybe he could run home? He knew the stoplights and landmarks, but he wasn't sure how exactly to get to them. Perhaps he could find some spare change and take the bus? Catch a ride? Maybe- 

But then he saw the guy again, the tall guy who had saved him at the park. He recognized him now that they were closer in proximity; that guy was in his neighboring class! And before he could stop himself, Tadashi found his view on the floor, bowing down in thanks to the guy, before he invited him into the gym to practice volleyball. 

Tsukishima and Yamaguchi remained friends after that.

________________________

Upon entering middle school, Tsukishima and Yamaguchi ended up in the same class. Given that they were exceptionally smart for their respective ages, they had ended up together in the advanced class hall. The hall of "gifted kids."

"Bullshit," Tsukishima had whispered to him the next week. Yamaguchi's eyes widened, hearing the oncoming footsteps of a teacher heading towards the pair. "Gifted doesn't mean anything."

"How so?" Yamaguchi questioned, sincere in his words and in his intent. 

Leaning over his desk towards his classmate, Tsukishima continued.

"Being called gifted doesn't mean shit," he said, softer this time. "You're never born gifted at anything." He paused, then continued. "I mean, you can be born with strengths. Thats a given. But as long as the kids down there," the gestured outside the door down to the special hall, "are told that there are constantly people better than them, they're never going to be gifted."

Yamaguchi noticed a softer look in his friend's eyes, the deep yellows lightening to reveal a galaxy of gold, shimmering and shining in the sunlight peeking in through the drawn curtains. Gaping at his friend, he barely even noticed the teacher behind him, tapping her foot. 

"I'm glad you're so talkative today, mr Tsukishima. Sad to think that it's only with one person though," she smiled bitterly. From that day on, Yamaguchi and Tsukishima never sat together again. But that didn't stop them from communicating.

\--

"Hello, Yamaguchi-san," the blonde smiled. He stood in the doorway of the Yamaguchi household, greeting his mother. She ushered the child in, thanking him for arriving and offering just about everything in the pantry before Yamaguchi rushed in, grabbing his friend and leading him into his room. 

"I've learned this new thing," he said in an excited voice. Tsukishima just looked at him, devoid of any facial expression. Tadashi had gotten used to the feeling, smiling softly in turn. "It's called morse code!"

And that day, Tsukishima and Yamaguchi had spent hours knocking on the wooden floors of his room, communicating back in forth in baby sentences, speaking without ever opening their mouths. They kept this lesson with them whenever Tsukki wanted to say something in class, lightly tapping the surface of his desk, waiting to see if Yamaguchi turned around. And he always did. 

Going on through middle school, it had always been their thing. Tsukishima may have never been outwardly vocal towards anyone, but he could spend hours tapping away at the ground, Yamaguchi smiling softly as the world reflected in his best friend's eyes. 

________________________

The day had passed with every second being dragged out way longer than it should've been. The clock ticked with ill intent, syncing with Yamaguchi's heartbeat as he counted down the seconds to the end of class. Tsukishima wasn't present on this day; his leg had been fractured in an incident that his mother had remained vague on this morning.

So he heaved his backpack onto his back, clipped his green hair back with a small, butterfly shaped clip, and headed to school with all but one thing. His friend.

Without Tsukishima to be around, he rarely had anything to do. He had been standing around, not knowing where to go during lunch break, or who to be around, for that matter. He had resigned to staring at his feet, watching the ants scramble towards the falling crumbs of his lunch that had gone uneaten. His gaze drifted from his shoes to the ants to the shoes to the faint polish on the tips of his fingers. His sister had painted them for him upon his request. He thought they looked pretty. Back against the brick walls of the school, he sighed to himself as he felt his neck strain from bending down at an unnatural angle for so long. Looking up, he rolled his head around to relieve himself of the stress on his muscles when he saw a familiar pair of shoes approach him.

Red sneakers bounced lightly, shining bright against the white socks that the individual was wearing. A black backpack dropped to the ground, and before Yamaguchi's eyes could make their way up to the person's face, he felt a hand make contact with his skin.

Before he could even register what had happened, he felt an onslaught of painful barages align with his ribcage. Then his jaw. Then his legs, his feet, his hands, his shoulders, his everything was aching. He was on the ground now. When had he gotten on the ground? When did his hands make their way up his body, snaking up to protect his face from the attacks?

"You f*g!" a familiar voice sneered. 

_You're so dumpy._

"You think you can go around dating other guys? You're broken. You're never going to be good enough for anyone." 

_You need to train your body._

"You don't deserve to be on this earth. Go to hell." 

At some point, he had left his body, spectating the view from above. And he couldn't help but laugh at his own, pathetic excuse of a body, curled up against the floor.

And he could feel other pairs of feet joining the mix, either kicking him or dragging the assaulters away from his body. 

The last thing he heard before the world disappeared was a singular sentence being spat out, just five words that sent a shiver down Yamaguchi's spine.

"I'm going to kill you."

Yamaguchi felt himself being lifted up by a warm arms, his body being jolted with each step the person took. Head pulsating in pain, his heart pounded into his throat, in his arms, legs, his feet, his temples, everywhere that wasn't his heart. But that was shattered, too. 

He wasn't that much of a child to not know a slur when he heard one. But he'd never been addressed like that. Hell, he didn't even know what it had meant. But the intent behind the voice, the slurred words emanating from the persons throat, the contact afterwards… was it so bad?

Not the slur, obviously. The slur was terrible, ingrained in his mind, repeating itself like a scream in an echo chamber. 

Was being gay so bad? 

Lost in his cloud of thoughts, he felt himself get laid down onto a bench, lights swarming his vision. A nurse peered over him, trying to get his attention. 

"Yamaguchi-kun," she said, voice trembling slightly. "Do you know where you are?"

Looking around, he saw a familiar poster that said "are you feeling tired? Dizzy?" and he knew that he was in the nurse's office, which he told the lady.

She breathed a sigh of relief. "Good, good. I'm going to phone your mother to come pick you up. You've got a black eye, take an icepack." 

When Yamaguchi got home, his mom had tears dripping down her face, appalled at how aggressive people could be. He slowly mumbled a question, his voice soft and trembling.

"Mom, is it wrong to love boys?"

Her face was shocked as she engulfed her son in a hug, rubbing circles on his back. 

"Of course not," she repeated, a mantra going on and on and on. "Of course not."

Tsukishima came back to school the following week, a cast and crutches dominating his appearance more-so than his height. But he paid the gaping students in the hallway no attention when he saw the bandages wrapped around his friend's hands, the black eye, the bruises, the cuts, scrapes… everything. 

And Tadashi told him that he'd gotten into a fight with his former bully, and left out the reason why.

________________________

"Close your eyes," His mom said. "Hey, keep them closed!"

"They are closed," Yamaguchi giggled, trying to suppress his growing smile. 

"Ok, ok, just a few more seconds," His dad confirmed, and he could hear his footsteps stomping around Yamaguchi's room. It was his birthday, and his family had invited his friend over, wanting to surprise him. 

Tapping his foot against the ground, he could hear Tsukki humming the tune to one of his electronic music songs. He never let anyone listen to his music, that is, except for Yamaguchi, since they had established that no judgement could pass between them. He smiled from behind his closed eyes.

"Okay," Tsukishima's higher voice said. "You can open your eyes now."

Peeking through his fingers, he saw a small box trembling in front of him. Eyebrows raised, his hands slowly made their way to the opening of the box, scared that something would pop out of it. Before they could make it to the box, however, the lid popped off and he could hear a small whine coming from within. 

"Oh my god," he whispered. "No way."

A small golden dog was sitting in the center of the box, peeking over the edge. 

Trembling hands reached in to scoop up the dog in his arms, and it immediately fell snuggled into his arm and fell asleep. 

"Do you like it?" His mom asked, knowing the answer but needing a confirmation. 

"Of course!" he said, a smile plastered on his face so bright that it lit up the room. "Thank you so much!"

The dog had fur sticking up against her head, like bedhead on a dog. Her eyes were golden in the sunlight, wide and curious, looking out at the world. 

'Huh,' he thought. 'Looks like Tsukki.'

He named his dog Moon.

________________________

A puff of air faded out into the cold, winter day. Cupping his hands over his mouth, Yamaguchi blew into his open palms in an attempt to warm them. Beside him stood a tall, stoic figure, blonde hair ruffled by the wind. Headphones covered his ears, but he shifted one of them off in order to hear his friend. Whenever Tsukishima did this, Yamaguchi felt his heart warm. 

Neither of them had ever had many friends, clinging onto each other ever since their first chance encounter. Together, they had gotten through many hardships, whether it was Tsukki helping Yamaguchi when he was being bullied, or Yamaguchi reminding Tsukishima that it was, in fact, all right to have insecurities, and encouraging him to open up to the team. 

Tsukishima exhaled out of his mouth, hands in his pocket. Yamaguchi turned to look at him with a questioning look on his face.

"Remember when Sato-sensei taught us about diseases in the eighth grade?" Tsukishima turned to look at Yamaguchi.

"Yeah, why?" 

"Not sure, Tsukki," he replied honestly, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. "I just remembered it, and I can't seem to get it out of my head." 

They were silent for a while, Yamaguchi listening to the beautiful rhapsody of the birds flying around him, Tsukishima listening to his music. The silence was comfortable, and soon they came upon the tall school building. Turning a corner, Yamaguchi headed off towards the change rooms, waving off Tsukki as he went to prepare for the morning practice. His friend merely waved, heading to the restrooms to change instead.

Morning practice was brutal. There was no denying it. They were preparing to face off against Aoba Johsai again, in order to make it to the finals of the Spring Tournament. Yamaguchi knew how much this meant to his teammates, but he couldn't stop thinking about how he had flubbed his one chance at turning the tide last time. Looking around, he threw the ball up to serve, feet kicking off of the ground. His hand swung through the air, fingertips firm as he hit the ball. Except the ball never touched his hand.

After landing, he heard the sound of the ball bouncing on the ground beneath him. 

'Dammit, I threw it too high,' he thought scathingly, glancing around to see if anyone had watched him fail to serve. 'It's the only thing that I bring to the team, and I can't even do it right?'

Just as he thought that no one had seen his failure, he locked eyes with a familiar face. Golden eyes seemed to pierce right through him, with a sympathetic look suspended within. Holding contact, Yamaguchi stared back at Tsukishima, a blush rising to his cheeks. If he had seen, Tsukki sure didn't make any mention of it. Instead, he called out a quick and sharp "don't mind," and turned back around practice his own serve. 

And Yamaguchi felt himself smile softly, but the smile was interrupted by a small coughing fit into his elbow. As soon as the spell ended, he caught Suga's eyes and said,

"I'm alright, just a cough, Suga-san." Suga took his answer and said in return, 

"Feel better soon!"

Yamaguchi couldn't help but notice a small tingling sensation in his stomach as he grinned at his upperclassman. 

________________________

The bell rang, and the volleyball club rushed out of the change rooms and into the main building. Yamaguchi waited behind for Tsukki, then headed off to his first period class. 

"Ah, Tsukki," he yawned. "Do you actually like health class?" Tsukishima turned and looked at his friend. 

"I don't mind it," he began, his soft voice barely heard over the chattering of their class. Then he scowled. "At least it's not as bad as math class." 

Tsukishima had never been particularly good at math. Of course, he was never particularly bad, he just hated how useless the numbers seemed on the paper. He never understood why they taught him to find the area of a triangle, instead of how to do taxes. 

"It's just so unnecessary,' he concluded. "What about you?"

"I'm alright with any subject as long as it isn't English. At least I'm not as bad as Kageyama," Yamaguchi said easily, and Tsukishima couldn't hide his smirk. 

"Fucking hell Yamaguchi," he smiled, barely containing his laughter. "You had no business being that funny."

Yamaguchi smiled and he felt a small tickle in the back of his throat, but he ignored it as students began pouring into the class, followed by their teacher. The lesson of the day was irrelevant in Yamaguchi's mind, but still he took notes on the subject, if not subconsciously. He wrote down the words as his mind wandered elsewhere, wondering what was up with him.

'Do I have a cold...?' Yamaguchi thought, glancing outside of the large window as small snowflakes whirled in the wind. He could picture one orange haired individual jumping up and down, shouting.

"Your immune system sucks, Bakageyama!"

"Nothing about me sucks, dumbass!"

As his two friends had bickered, he had shivered quietly in the gymnasium.

Snapping back to reality, he sighed. 

'I definitely have a cold.' 

School flew by in a flash, leaving only the afternoon practice. They practiced 2 on 2, paired into groups by Daichi and Ukai-san. Yamaguchi with Tanaka, Sugawara with Daichi (he felt like that wasn't a coincidence), Kageyama with Nishinoya, and so on. Tsukishima was paired with Asahi, and the Wall and Spear combination was practically the most unfair creation in the history of matches. So unfair that, halfway through practice, their group had been switched, meaning that Tsukki was now with Ennoshita, and Asahi was now with Narita. 

Despite being wrapped up in his own match, Yamaguchi couldn't help but glance around every time he heard someone call out, "one-touch!" or "Shut out!", hoping to see his friend in action. And most of the time, he did. 

Tsukishima had just slammed down one of Hinata's spikes when Yamaguchi felt an immense pressure build up at the base of his throat, slowly but surely inching its way up towards his head. He excused himself from the game, getting Kinnoshita (who had been sitting out due to an odd number of participants) to sub in for him as he dashed out of the gym. No one noticed. 

He was just about to round the corner into the washrooms when he felt an itching at his throat, and before he knew it, he was keeled over on the pavement, coughing like he had never done before. Once. Twice. Closing his eyes, he focused on quieting his coughs so as not to draw any unnecessary attention to himself. Slowly, he could feel whatever it was in his throat push its way out, and he spat into the nearby garbage bin. 

Opening his eyes, he turned to walk to the gym fountain, swiping at his mouth. His throat felt raw, and he couldn't wait to go home and make himself a cup of tea to sooth the ache. He puffed out air, watching the condensation evaporate. He moved to warmed his fingers against his mouth, but his eyes saw a flash of pink. 

An acacia petal adorned his fingertips.

Looking around, he saw the pink flowers growing on the ground.

'Huh,' he thought. 'Must've blown into my hand while I wasn't looking.'

But Yamaguchi couldn't help but feel uneasy as he got to the fountain, took a swig of water and headed back to the gymnasium. 

-

They were loading the bus, getting ready to head to the court to play off against Seijoh. The slow rumbling and heat emanating off of the vehicle signified that it was time to climb on and head off, and yet people still loitered outside, talking to one another. Hinata was jumping up and down in a circle around Kageyama, shouting about something that had happened moments before, while Daichi and Suga whispered to each other about strategies they'd use in the match. There was an air of ease and calmness flowing from the team, something that was shared with everyone except for Yamaguchi. 

His heart was racing unnaturally, images flashing across his mind as he tried to calm his breathing. But it was no use. He felt his throat constrict, and he couldn't breathe, eyes widening until he had his back against the wall of the school exit. Slowly slipping downwards, he thought about how he flubbed his serve in the previous match, how he had cost them the Inter-High, how he had failed in practice, how he-

A gentle touch on his shoulder grounded Yamaguchi, bringing him back to the present moment. Tsukishima knelt before his friend, face indifferent but eyes concerned. The team was slowly making their way onto the bus, and Yamaguchi had gone unnoticed by everyone except for Tsukki. 

"Are you ok?" his friend asked steadily, like it was nothing out of the ordinary. Tadashi nodded, muttering a quick "Gomen, Tsukki," and they got onto the bus, changing the subject as they joined in on Hinata and Kageyama's conversation. 

As soon as they arrived, the team flooded into the gymnasium, preparing for their warmup. Yamaguchi smiled at Tsukki, an unspoken thank you for what he had done earlier. Tsukishima smiled, but then turned around to get a volleyball. He felt his heart beat speed up, remembering the smile as it remained etched into his mind. 

cough.

cough.

cough.

His eyes widened as he tried to suck in a breath, but couldn't. Sugawara-san stopped running and asked him if he was ok, but he couldn't respond. Concerned, he pulled his junior out of the gymnasium, towards the washroom. Tadashi hadn't heard his footsteps leaving him in the room, but when he finally felt whatever had been blocking his airways clear, he found no sign of his upperclassman. 

"That," he said with a gentle sigh, feeling his smooth voice tremble as his throat throbbed, "That was embarrassing."

He turned around to the sink and dipped his hands into the running water, cupping some in his hands and rinsing his mouth. He spat the water back out and reached for the paper towel, but his eyes caught on something that had just fallen from his mouth.

_**_

_A cold breeze blew in from the opened window of the eighth grade health class. The current unit that they were learning about was diseases, and they were groaning to each other about the uselessness of it all._

_"If I wanted to learn about diseases, I would've searched it up."_

_"When will I ever need to know this?"_

_"Wanna skip class with me-"_

_A quiet footfall caused the class to fall silent as their teacher walked through the door, heels cleaning on the pristine tiled flooring._

_"Alright class, pull out your notebooks and pay attention."_

_"Yes, sensei," the class murmured under their breaths, making their way towards their designated seats. The teacher moved towards the whiteboard, marker in hand. Her hair swayed from her neat ponytail as she jotted down information on the board. The words 'Hanahaki disease' adorned the otherwise empty board._

_"Does anyone know what this means?" she asked, glancing around the classroom. A pencil clattered on a desk as fabric moved and a hand was thrusted upwards. Yamaguchi turned to look at the person who had raised their hand, shocked when his eyes caught onto someone with messy blonde hair and square framed glasses perched on the bridge of their nose. Tsukishima rarely spoke during class, let alone about a topic that no one else would be chosen to talk about. He liked to blend into the crowd._

_"Ah, Tsukishima-kun?" Tsukki lowered his hand, blinking slowly as he opened his mouth to speak. Yamaguchi let out a useless prayer that his friend wouldn't trip over his words. Useless, because he never did._

_"It's a flower disease," his friend's clear voice said, cutting through his prayer. "Caused by unrequited love." Yamaguchi lifted his head off of his hand, interest piqued. He tuned in to listen to the teacher._

_"Very good," she started, pleased that one of her students were able to answer. "Hanahaki disease is when flowers grow inside of your lungs, caused by liking someone who doesn't like you back. It progresses rapidly, making the victim cough up flowers until they choke to death."_

_He winced at that._

_"The only cure is to get the person to return your feelings, but recent research has shown that there's a way to remove the disease through surgery, but they haven't found a cure that doesn't destroy the recipient's feelings." The class looked around, obviously in discomfort. They spoke among themselves,_

_"It's a horrible disease to have."_

_"And it's so shameful."_

_"Dishonouring."_

_"The only reason that they're coming up with a cure is that they want victims to be able to deal with this without revealing it to anyone. It's nothing but a fucking pity party."_

_Frowning, Yamaguchi couldn't help but think,_

_'How are people supposed to help falling in love?'_

**

But that was it. 

Yamaguchi couldn't _help_ it.

And as he stared at the... the thing in the sink, he realized it with a resounding sensation hardening in his stomach. 

In the sink was a cluster of pink, velvety soft petals, slick with saliva, pinned underneath the continuous stream of water flowing from the sink that he had forgotten to close.

There was a moment of silence before he looked up, seeing the concern etched into his reflection morph into shock. His hands flew to his mouth, clamping it shut as he felt another bout of coughs coming. He saw spots in the light, fizzling out his reality until he felt himself land on the tiled floor with a thud. 

________________________

Tsukishima tapped his foot against the wooden planks of the court. He had seen Yamaguchi dash out the door, but had paid him no attention as he focused on steadying his breathing during the warmup. He had never had the best stamina, but he felt himself slowly building up durability and strength on his good days.

Today?

Today was not one of them. 

Hands on his knees, he breathed heavily as he wiped sweat from his brow. His heart had jumped into his throat, and he could taste the metallic tang of invisible blood staining his tongue. Grimacing, back against the wall, he reached out to grab his bottle as he heard a familiar body pressed against the wall next to him.

"Yamaguchi, where were-" He started, but then realized that his friend looked like he had seen a ghost. Frowning, he asked with raised eyebrows, "Are you alright?"

Turning slowly to face him, he noticed that his friend had bruises on his left cheekbone, like he had been punched in the face. But he was quick to dismiss this when his friend saw his eyes trailing the line of injury, and smiled. 

"Gomen, Tsukki," he said in his usual soft voice… but something was off. "I just tripped on my way to the washroom." 

"You have nothing to be sorry for," He responded monotonously. "Just go tell coach Ukai that you missed warm up." 

But as he turned away from Yamaguchi, a few dry coughs echoed across the gym. Looking back, he saw him cough into his hand. Throwing him his water bottle, he saw his friend's eyes widen with some sort of guilt. 

"Drink it. Your throat sounds rough." 

"Thank you… yeah, thank you, Tsukki." 

Indifferent, Tsukishima turned back around to face the incoming footsteps that pattered from outside of the gym, as well as cheer teams that began flooding the overhanging viewing area. Familiar white and teal figures began to walk in, causing Tsukki and his team to feel just a little bit warmer… Well, Kageyama and Hinata seemed to have their heads on fire, anger seeping through their veins. He scoffed, wondering how weird it was to have such a profound rivalry with another team. 

'If it helps us win the game,' he reasoned with himself, 'then it's fine.' Then he watched as Yamaguchi made his way towards coach Ukai, eyes staring endlessly into the floor. 

"He hasn't looked like that since the day I met him," Tsukishima whispered to himself. Fingers twitching, he shook his head. "No, no, theres probably nothing wrong." 

And he turned around to face his other teammates instead of his friend, choosing to focus on the game up ahead.

___________________

After the match had ended, they rode the bus back to their school building, packed their things and left in a group. Daichi-san had offered to buy meat buns for everyone there, and no one turned down his offer. Handing them out, Yamaguchi just held his in his hands, letting the bun warm his cold fingertips.

No one noticed.

That night, he went home and immediately researched about the disease. There was barely anything, but he did manage to find out how to track its progression. 

First, it came across as a cough.

Then, petals would emerge. They oftentimes meant something, held some form of necessity as to how the disease was. The more complete the flower was, the less chance there was for survival.

Yamaguchi felt his throat constrict at that.

At midnight, he had woken up to the feeling of a sharp pain jabbing into his side. He got up and dashed to the washroom, careful not to wake up his parents. He couldn't risk them knowing and making him get the newly finalized surgery. It was an easy way out, taking away the feelings with it, and sometimes the memories. Sometimes the surgery even took away the individuals ability to feel, dragging them into a numb void of… well, of nothing, until they either died or contracted the disease once again. But once he got there, he keeled over and started retching, his throat burning as the thorns dragged themselves up his airway and caused blood to drip,

drip,

drip,

into the water with the thrown-up flowers, the floral scent wafting up into the air. He stole a glance at the flowers before flushing them away. They were too pretty to be real. Not in this scenario. One pink mandevilla petal, alongside blood red acacia flowers.

"Tch," he scoffed. "Concealed love and fear of loss... I just want this to end."

And he knew exactly how to make it end, but refused.

Moon scratched at the door, trying to paw her way in. Gripping the door handle, he let out a shaky breath, opening the door before his parents woke up from the dog's constant noises. 

That same day, he had spoken with Tsukki after passing out cold on the bathroom floor. His fingers trailed the string of bruises that the fall had left, but that was not the memorable part. Oh no, the memorable part was the tingle that had entered his throat when he spoke with his friend. Because those didn't happen with just anyone when you had the _infamous flower disease_. 

"I…" he whispered, not allowing himself to speak louder, for fear that more flowers would come up. "I like… Tsukki."

His bottom lip trembled as the words repeated themselves uncontrollably, warm tears seeping down his thinning cheeks as he cursed the world for torturing him like this. And that night he cried, cried about how hopeless he was, scolding himself for not being good enough for Tsukki, that he wouldn't like him back. Not like that. Not in the way Yamaguchi needed him to. Moon licked at his tears, curling around in his lap before snuggling into his knee, yellow fur illuminated in the bathroom light. Similar to the hair of his ~~friend~~... crush?

The reminder caused another bout of petals to claw their way back up, ripping Yamaguchi apart from the inside out. The blood mixed with the tears, and Yamaguchi sat against the wall, head pressed to the side, body aching and heart broken.

The next day at school his eyes were red, but he just said that it was from staying up all night studying for the upcoming test. 

No one questioned it. 

Tsukishima had asked if he was ok a couple of times, but would always drop the subject as soon as Yamaguchi painted on a smile and said he was alright, forcing back the coughs and swallowing back the thorns so as to not worry his ~~crush~~ friend. (because they were nothing more than that, they weren't.) The efforts he went to. Hitoka-chan had given him lozenges, smiling at him and saying that Hinata and Kageyama had run down to the store to fetch one when they realized that his cough would be an ongoing problem. He had simply smiled gratefully and took it, making a mental note to thank his teammates for their efforts. 

Their wasted efforts.

A month had passed, with Yamaguchi quickly learning how to tell the symptoms of a cough coming. It always started with a tingle in his throat, caused whenever he was reminded of Tsukki. It made it a pain to be around the one person who had always been there for him, but Yamaguchi took up the challenge. 

'I'm not going to lose him,' he'd think to himself every time he was forced to kneel down during a coughing fit. 'I'm not going to drive him away.' 

Except one day, he had spent so long with Tsukishima working on a project that, immediately afterwards, he had to dash to the washroom, evading the hall patrols before half bloomed petals scraped his internal organs on their way to the surface, drawing blood and pain from their victim. He cursed into the empty washroom, standing up a little too quickly, black dotting his vision as he collapsed onto his arm, sending tendrils of pain swirling down his bone for a second too long. 

'It's nothing,' he repeated to himself. 'It's nothing compared to this.'

That day, he really considered skipping out on practice. He had even managed to tell Tsukishima that he wasn't feeling good, but then the latter reminded him that there was a practice match against Date Tech that day. Yamaguchi had no other choice but to show up. Date Tech's defences had strengthened significantly, with Koganegawa as an extra layer of pure iron added onto the wall that had been meters thick before he joined. And before he knew it, he was up to serve.

He took a deep breath as he bounced the ball off of the wooden planks, waiting for the whistle. When it came, he threw the ball up into the air, but it... it didn't feel right. Not that he hadn't tossed it right; no, the toss was perfect. It just boiled down to the moment his hand needed to make contact with the ball. Midair, he felt his throat seize up, his body convulsed, and just... dropped. The ball followed shortly after, the sound being the last thing that Yamaguchi heard before the world went to shit.

________________________

He saw lights first. Blinding lights glaring into him, boring into the back of his skull. Jumbled voices echoed in his ringing ears, and he felt footsteps pound from the floor to somewhere near him.

"Hey, he's awake!" a voice called out. Yamaguchi winced, the voice was too loud. "Ok, Yamaguchi, can you hear me?"

He didn't respond, only moving his arms up to his ears to try and stop the noise. But only one of them moved.

The other sent signals shooting through his neck, his brain, his fingertips, his heart… he felt tiny little splinters of excruciating pain travelling throughout his body, electricity in a body of water. 

"Don't move," a voice breathed out near his ear, taking the hint that it was far too loud for his disoriented state. "You've done something to your arm, I think its dislocated, hold on…" 

Turning slightly, he realized he was lying on the ground of the gymnasium, surrounded by people from Date Tech and Karasuno alike. Sugawara was trying to ward off the hoard of people, mumbling little things like "get back", "give him some space", all the while glancing back constantly. 

But one person refused to get back, his face entrapped in a state of shock, golden, golden eyes wide with fear.

"Yamaguchi!" Tsukishima's voice rang out. At this point, Yamaguchi had adjusted to the noise, the lights, the people, but not the pain. The pain nearly drowned out his words, the words coming from the person Yamaguchi could not be around right now.

Tsukishima shuffled his way past Sugawara, who made way for him. Patting him on the back, he said in a small voice, "Take him to the bench, ok?" and walked away. Yamaguchi's breath hitched as Tsukishima wrapped his arm around the others' waist, jostling his arm. Tears sprung to his eye as he winced in pain, clinging on to Tsukki's shirt as he waited for the pain to pass. 

Tsukki froze, calculating eyes looking at his friend as he stopped moving, waiting for a signal to start his move again. It came in the form of a sharp exhale and a glance. 

Yamaguchi tried his best not to cry, as the pain emanated from his shoulder and the flowers creeped their way up. He avoided eye contact with Tsukki for the first time in years, looking anywhere but at the ethereal person in the room. 

With every step, every jolt of his body, he felt his arm drift away from his body, like it had sprouted wings and was beginning to detach itself from him. 

'Not even my arm wants to stay,' he laughed, the thought not being funny but his state of mind being the cause. But when he caught the eyes of his friend glancing at him, he realized he had said that out loud. 

"Are you ok, Yamaguchi?" he asked as he set the smaller boy down at the bench. Yamaguchi felt the claws of the disease rearing its head, crying out, trying to escape in the form of petals. So he didn't answer. Instead he just nodded his head. Tsukishima headed back to the game.

He looked up, watching as Tsukki doubled back, shooting glances at the green haired boy before jogging back, saying in a monotonous but concerned voice, 

"Let me know if you need anything, alright?" right before coach Ukai ushered him back into the game, and led Yamaguchi to the school nurse. 

________________________

Upon arriving at the nurse's office, he had replayed what had just happened in his mind over a million times. His body ached, and he gripped his leg so hard that he was certain he broke skin. He could feel a cough itching in his throat, an indirect attack that would reveal everything to everyone, something he wasn't and couldn't be prepared for. So as soon as he reached the nurse's office and was left alone, he knelt over the garbage can and choked out the knotted bundle of petals that were beginning to take form into a flower. But once he had rid himself of the flowers, he turned around to see a horrified Hinata standing in the doorway.

Tentatively, Hinata brought in a bottle of water and asked in a terrified, trembling voice,

"Yamaguchi-kun, what was that?" And before Yamaguchi could stop him (he couldn't, how could he, with this busted arm?) Hinata saw the velvety pink petals of a half formed acacia flower, slick with blood.

Yamaguchi's blood.

Eyes widening, his face crumpled as he opened and closed his mouth, at a loss for words. 

"Who?" he asked tentatively, not daring to speak as though the petals on the ground were an illusion. "Who is she?"

Freezing, Yamaguchi's face seized up as his facade crumpled, tears falling into his one hand as his other sat limp on his side. His nose burned with embarrassment, and his throat stung with the exit wounds of his god forsaken petals. And Hinata, not knowing what to do, sat down on the stiff nurse bench beside him, rubbing circles on his back. 

"It's… they're not a girl." 

Hinata's hand stopped moving, and Yamaguchi prepared himself for the onslaught of pain and shoves, disgusted looks and lonely friendships. The only other person who he had told after the incident had been Tsukishima, who came out thereafter as bisexual. Hinata…

Hinata just stared, carefully choosing his words. 

"Alright," he settled. "Then who is he? Wait-" and realization dawned on the short guys head.

"Stingy- I mean, Tsukishima?" 

Yamaguchi's ears turned bright red, and his tears fell at a higher pace. He heard Hinata gasp through muffled ears, and he peeked out through his fingertips. 

"Why don't you tell him?" were the first words that tumbled out of Hinata's lips, rolling off the tip of his tongue without thought, without process. "I mean, how long have you kept this hidden?"

He thought for a moment, hand rustling his green hair before answering.

"About two months, give or take," Yamaguchi said with finality. "But it's not serious yet, I swear-" but he was cut off by the orange haired boy. 

"These flowers. They're halfway full." 

"I know."

"You're going to die!"

"I…" he bit his lip. "I know."

"Then get over your shyness and just tell him!" the words entered his mind, biting at his nerves, pricking at his eyes, shocking his head and causing him to fall silent. "We can't afford to lose you, you're such a great friend and you have so much to live for!"

Yamaguchi snapped.

"You think it's that easy?" He yelled. "You think I haven't thought about it? You think I haven't sat up at night thinking about how much I fucking hate this? This, everything, this is what I have to live with. This is what I'm struggling with. But I'm handling it perfectly fucking fine, I'm doing absolutely great, so if you don't mind, I'll die from Hanahaki disease on my own, fucking, terms!"

But the silence that followed was louder than his words, Yamaguchi had never yelled at anyone like that. The soft spoken boy covered his mouth, and apologized immediately. But it was too late, Hinata had stormed out of the room and had dashed towards the entrance of the gym. 

"Fuck," Yamaguchi whispered under his breath, propping himself up to go chase after him. But then the nurse came and began to pop his shoulder back into place, and he forgot about the ordeal. 

His arm was now in a sling, and he tentatively made his way back to the gym, remembering the argument that he had had with Hinata, playing it on replay in his mind. Sucking in a deep breath and coughing, he turned the corner and peered inside. Hinata was playing regularly, but with a permanent scowl on his face that he was quick to cover when he turned around to see Yamaguchi. Slowly, Yamaguchi walked in, taking a seat next to Hitoka-chan and watching the game. No one looked over. 

No one noticed.

It was only until after the game that his teammates swarmed him, asking questions about the sling, the pain, everything but what he was apprehensive about. Shooting Hinata a look, he mouthed a quick thank you before turning to coach Ukai. 

"The nurse said I could… I could be back in two weeks," he stumbled through his words. He'd never been very good at talking to his elders. 

"Alright," the blonde coach said in response, before clapping his hands together and saying, "It's time to clean up! Go thank Date Tech for this practice, and head home!" to which the team responded with loud cheers.

________________________

The walk home was difficult. Typically, Tsukishima and Yamaguchi would walk together in comfortable silence, but the mood in the air between them was… painful. Sharp. It was like the air around them was thickening, depriving them of oxygen and starving their brains. Yamaguchi was about to make small conversation when, suddenly, Tsukishima opened his mouth. 

"People who dislocate their shoulders don't just fall like that."

The voice was barely a whisper, barely reaching Yamaguchi as it waded it's way through the tension. Yamaguchi didn't move, didn't look. 

"Healthy people don't just fall like that."

He felt Tsukki's footsteps stop, and Yamaguchi's followed suit. 

"Yamaguchi," the words tumbled from his mouth. "Yamaguchi, what's going on?"

He was shocked. Shocked at the tone of Tsukki's voice, shocked at the gentleness and the hurt concealed behind those cold eyes. He opened his mouth to speak but…

Cough.

Cough.

Cough.

And as the mandevilla petals floated to the floor, a fully bloomed acacia sprouted from his throat. It caused him to keel over, falling to his knees and crying out, alarming the boy beside him, who knelt down beside him and rubbed circles on his back. Squirming away from his touch, Yamaguchi felt petals clump up from his lungs as he tried his hardest to suck out a breath, he tried so hard, he really did, but he couldn't breathe, the world was turning dark, the sun was disappearing, when did it get so dark, why was it night, why couldn't he see, why was the only thing there a blonde boy with rectangular glasses…

He jolted up, banging his arm against the bedframe of his room. The bedsheets were adorned with delicate petals, coated with blood and sweat, sticking to his sheets like the fucking plague. Recoiling, he felt a hand touch his shoulder, and he whipped his head around to see Tsukishima holding a cup of tea in his hands. 

"Sit," he said. His voice was empty. 

"No, Tsukki, just wait-" 

"Yamaguchi, you need to sit down. Please," his eyes were looking downwards, scared to meet Tsukishima's calculating gaze. He was afraid of the golden eyes that he'd spent so long looking at, mesmerized by the emotions coated behind them. Was it the emotions that he was afraid of? Or was it the confrontation?

"Please, tell me what happened back there." He set down the cup onto the bedside table and sat on the chair next to Yamaguchi's bed. They'd been friends for so long that Tsukki had his own key, and vice versa, their parents knowing that they would guard those with their lives. 

Sighing, Yamaguchi gave in and drank the tea. It didn't burn, but it didn't sooth his throat like he knew it should've. It didn't do what it had done for him on that very first day. Still, he relished in the extra time that it bought him, counting down the seconds before he would have to tell Tsukishima about the illness plaguing him.

Once he had finished the tea, Yamaguchi let his hand rest down on his sling, twiddling his thumb up and down the grooves and divots of the fabric. He heard a cough from Tsukishima, and he took that as a signal to start. He took a deep breath.

"You know that cough I've been having for the past two months?" he started. Might as well dive right into it. Tsukki nodded, holding eye contact. "It wasn't a cough.

"I have Hanahaki disease, Tsukki. I have Hanahaki disease and I don't think I can make it through this, I don't think I have the strength, I can't-"

But Tsukishima placed his hand on his knee, silencing the rambling boy before tears could make their way past his eyelashes. 

"One thing at a time, Tadashi," he said, but his voice trembled. Tsukishima's voice wasn't allowed to tremble, Tsukki was a rock, why did Yamaguchi have to do this to him?

"How bad is it?"

"Im… I think what you witnessed was a complete flower."

There was a pause, and then, "Yamaguchi!" Tsukishima exclaimed, eyes wide with fear. "You need to go get help! Who else knows?" 

Wincing, the smaller boy admitted that Hinata was the only other person who had found out. 

"Oh my god," Tsukki said. "Yamaguchi, you need to go get the surgery, please-"

"I can't," Yamaguchi said loudly, interrupting his friend in the middle of his sentence. "I can't, I can't risk it, I can't lose them…" 

There was a pause.

"Who, Tadashi?" 

The words were sharp, concise, and yet filled with so much agony and pain. And the tears began to fall. 

But so did something else. 

Cyclamen flowers fell to the floor as Yamaguchi's throat hacked away, filling the near-empty room with the sounds of his wheezing, his choking, his broken voice crying. He felt a hand caress his cheek, tilting his chin up, and he saw.

A pair of tear streaked eyes, creased eyebrows and concern etched upon the face of the one he wanted so badly to keep safe, the one he wanted so badly to love him back. The petals were still falling from his lips, his hacking cough still erupting, but Tsukishima was holding him, moved him into his arms, held the back of his head as he cried to the world to heal his closest, only friend. And for the first time in forever, Yamaguchi felt ok.

Despite the lack of oxygen, Yamaguchi felt ok.

Despite the thorns tearing up his throat, Yamaguchi felt at peace.

Despite the fact that his face was turning purple, that the coughs seized into a high whine, that Tsukishima was now carrying Yamaguchi down the stairs to his mother, 

Yamaguchi felt ok.

And the last thing he saw, before he was engulfed in a soft, angelic white, was a boy with a blonde crop of hair, rectangular glasses, and the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. 

He was on the ground now, and he could feel the concrete as he was lifted into a stretcher, sweat running down his temples, blood dripping down the sides of his mouth. 

Reaching out onto the ground, he saw Tsukishima cover his mouth with his hand as he knocked. 

.. / .-.. --- ...- . / -.-- --- ..-

(I love you)

And with a smile, he closed his eyes and let the world collapse around him.

________________________

Tsukishima had just seen his world crumble before him.

His only friend, the one he was closest to, was loaded onto an ambulance, being taken far away, and the only thing Tsukishima could do was stare as the vehicle drove off into the horizon.

Tears slipping down his face.

And he tried to remain positive as he comforted Yamaguchi's family, repeating lies to them and to himself, that he would be ok. 

He had to be ok.

The day passed agonizingly, and before he knew it, he was sitting down in the hallway of a pristine white hospital, tapping his foot against the ground as he picked at his fingernails, doing anything to distract himself. He was there with the rest of the team, each having heard the news the previous night. They stood outside of the intensive care unit, awaiting news, anything. 

Every single one of them had gone up to Tsukki, speaking with him and making sure he was ok. 

'How stupid,' he had thought. 'I'm not the one who you should be asking.'

But he appreciated it as they waited, each breath heavy with anticipation, nerve, fear… 

A nurse headed up towards them, and immediately the atmosphere changed. Every person in the room was waiting with bated breath, and Hitoka-chan had tears spilling down her pale face. Tsukishima's cold, calculating eyes glanced at the nurse, and a sinking feeling entered his stomach. Tears spilled out from the corners of his eyes, earning glances and gasps from his teammates. 

"Yamaguchi-kun is in his final moments," the nurse said. 

And Tsukishima crumpled to the ground, supported by Asahi and Daichi as he covered his face with his hands, wearing the same shirt as yesterday, because he'd had more important things on his mind than taking care of himself. The team circled him, mumbling condolences as they all cried. 

"If you'd like to say your final goodbyes to him," the nurse interrupted, "Follow me."

They travelled together, one by one taking turns to visit the damn near empty hospital room. Each person had only said a few words, not having known Yamaguchi like that.

No one knew him like Tsukishima.

Once it was Tsukki's turn to go into the room, he stepped tentatively, barely making noise as he passed the threshold and approached the bed, where a ghostly white green haired boy laid. 

His hand reached out and held the cold, lifeless arm that was splayed out beside the bed, tears dripping onto the skin. He began to speak.

"Yamaguchi?" he didn't know why he did this, he knew that the boy hadn't responded to any of his teammates. But, if not just in his imagination, he felt the slight movement of a squeeze, and he saw the eyelashes flutter. A breathing tube hindered the face of the boy he had spent so much time with, and blood smeared across the chin gave him the look of one who had been raised from the dead.

Tsukishima took a deep breath to calm his beating heart. 

"Yamaguchi, you were the star that lit up the night sky. 

I wish I could've noticed sooner. Maybe then you wouldn't be here right now.

I wish I could've been there for you when I wasn't, when you were in need of help and I… I was oblivious. 

I wish we could've spent more time together because I had so much more I wanted to do with you, to tell you, if only I could've done it sooner. Those 10 years that I got to spend with you weren't enough. They will never be enough. But I'm glad. I'm glad, you see, because I got to meet a light in my darkness, someone who brightened my day with his beautiful smile, with his kind words, with his encouraging gestures that the world had to steal away from me. 

Yamaguchi," he said, tears falling faster than before. "You stood by me even when I couldn't stand for myself. You stayed with me through thick and thin, and I could only hope that I could've done the same for you. But I didn't.

Yamaguchi, you were my easiest hello. I didn't even know you then, but you were the only one who wanted to stay by my side throughout it all. 

And you're my hardest goodbye.

I don't understand why the universe had to cut my infinity with you to today. There were too many things I needed to say to you, so is it ok if I start now?

Your smile always brought one to my own face. You cleared away the fog that had overcome my mind and I realize now that I never told you this. You have a beautiful smile, you know?

You always defended me when I was wrong, right, anything. And I always told you to shut up. If I could take that back right now, if I could hear your beautiful, soft, unscathed voice one more time, if I could have defended you in the way that you always, always would, I would trade the world.

You never gave up on me.

The world is trying to tear us apart, and I'm being forced to accept that I will have to live in a world without the soul of Yamaguchi Tadashi. I never got to do all the things I wanted to do with you by my side, isn't that selfish of me? Isn't that terrible? You're lying on a hospital bed, flowers ripping out your lungs while I ramble about how much I wish we could do the things we spoke about when we were children. 

Yamaguchi, I will never find someone else like you. You brought me happiness, emotion, you stayed with me, and you stood up for me. I don't know who it was that you loved, who it was that couldn't love you back. I know I will never be them. 

But I love you, Yamaguchi.

I've loved you since we sat on the hardwood floor of your house, knocking on the wooden planks as we sent nonesensical messages back and forth, back and forth, and when I finally got the hang of it you looked at me like I was the best thing in the world, even though I am and will always be far from it. 

I've loved you since you peeked out from behind the gym doors, too scared to go in until I dragged you into the room, the day we became friends. 

I've loved you everyday, since the beginning, every second, every minute, every hour I got to spend with you was the best time of my life. And I'm so, so sorry that it had to end this way, I'm so sorry that I didn't do more to help you."

And with that, a sobbing Tsukishima knelt over the bed, planting a kiss on Yamaguchi's cold, limp hand before he heard the heart monitor let out a long, ear splitting beep that signified that Yamaguchi was gone. At that moment, etched onto his skin, was a single cyclamen flower, symbolizing goodbye.

**Author's Note:**

> Cyclamen - resignation and goodbye.
> 
> thank you so much for reading! If you have any critiques, suggestions, etc, please lmk!  
> I'm debating on making another chapter about his funeral and Tsukki's life afterwards fdkslfjd


End file.
